


Storm, A Perfect

by 1under_spectra



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Dubious Consent, First Kiss, First Time, M/M, inebriated
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-11
Updated: 2017-04-11
Packaged: 2018-10-17 20:08:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10601310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1under_spectra/pseuds/1under_spectra
Summary: Bad weather keeps R2 at their Convention hotel rooms one day more than planned. Richard can't handle it another night.





	

Richard calls it the perfect storm. Sunday evening, the end of another of so many conventions spread over the years. 2 flights to LA canceled indefinitely due to what do you know, an actual storm. Booze and a hotel room. “Perfect StooOrm”, Richard croons at the drink he’s mixing.

Rob is lounging in the corner recliner chair because they’re exhausted and definitely not going out, not even to the hotel bar, but they’re not going to pass up the opportunity to be with friends just rooms apart. Richard stumbles sideways and Rob snaps out of his half nap. “Give me the drink,” he reaches out, talking to Richard like a good dad would to a son in need.

Richard regards him and kneels on the ottoman before him to hand over the glass. Rob is buzzed and feeling great at the moment, kind of sleepy, but good. He takes a healthy drink and smiles at Richard in front of him, kneeling on the cushion, supporting himself by a hand on the chair. He knows Richard is a talkative drunk until he hits this stage; quiet, contemplative, overly drunk Richard Speight.

He sets the drink on the side table and laughs quietly just before Richard lurches forward and fits his soft lips to Robs. Robs eyes close instinctively and his buzz lets his head swim sideways for a while, but then the lips on his push and open, capturing his mouth in a deeper position and his mind comes flooding back to life. He pushes Richard back, just inches because he’s heavy and loose. “Rich!” he half whines, half brings unsure sarcasm at the end, because he’s suddenly hoping it’s a prank gone wrong.

Richard is serious, watching him, breathing. “I’m sorry,” he tells him, leaning in against Robs hands and kissing him with more passion, leaning Rob back against the chair. Their mouths open against each other but close and lock, though nothing about it was chaste. Rob gives a desperate noise and pushes back harder this time, just as Richard began to enter his mouth, curling his hands into Richards clothes and holding him away.

“W-what…w…,” he struggles, shell shocked that this isn’t a joke, this is real. “Why are you doing this? …Rich?”

They had wives. Rob didn’t have to remind them. They’re straight, they’re best friends, coworkers. None of that had to be said out loud.

Richard breathes out audibly and hangs his head, slumping against Robs grip again. “I don’t know, I don’t know,” Richard murmurs, looking up at Rob. “You’re just so…it’s just hard not to touch you and…I’ve been doing this for so long…I just want you, and I love you and you’re my brother but I, god,” Richard adjusts his weight against Rob, who’s breathing differently, mouth slowly opening as his body temperature changes.

“You’re so…,” Richard redoubles his effort, leaning into Robs grip further, looking through him. Speaking deeper. “You’re so hot, and it’s so hard. Not to touch you. Not to…”

Somewhere in the middle of Richards confessions, Rob went from a panicked deer to something else. The smell and feel of Richards clothes, the temperature between them, Richards small breathes when he’d kissed him, the words he was saying, how he was looking at him. Rob felt powerful, overheated. “Kiss me…” It came out unsure, weaker, but then again, he was those things too in that moment. He wasn’t even looking at Richard when he said it. But he locked eyes now, repeating himself, because he needed Richard to do it for him. Convince him.

Excitement and anxiety hits him as Richard snaps into motion, putting a hand along his neck to cradle his jaw and capturing his mouth like they do in the movies, and Rob let him this time, opens his mouth so it can be filled with an experienced tongue that pulls moans from him. He kisses Richard back, and it gets hotter, and he doesn’t know when he got hard but he’s harder. Richard pulls back with a thick, satisfied gasp, leaning into Robs space so their noses touch.

“Oh god, oh fuck,” Rob breathes. His mouth is wet and open and he’s dizzy and hard. He continues to curse while Richard laughs thickly. He can tell Richard is aroused, he doesn’t need to check, and then Richards licking into his mouth again and he backs away.

“Hold on, hold on…we can’t just do this, we gotta…we gotta talk to the girls. We…,” and then Robs eyes grow big. “Mollie and I, she, a couple years ago we talked about opening our relationship, I could-”

“Jaci and I already have that. I mean, weee…never did anything about it but, last I checked…”

“When was that?” Rob asks.

“Ohh uh…couple years ago...”

“We need to talk to them,” Rob begins, pushing gently back against Richard to let him up.

“About this?”

“Not about this, no, let’s ask them if they’re still into open marriage,” Rob tells him, expecting to be let up. Richard leans in for a small kiss, then licks inside while Rob tries to talk. “Richard…”

And it’s Richards turn to curse, hands framing Rob’s face, foreheads touching. It was hard not to do it again, so it just sort of happens. Soft lips, hungry, Richard begging, doing things to Rob that make his head swim even more. It makes him throb inside his jeans, and that pulls him out of it. “I’ll-I’m going to call her tomorrow morning I promise, it’s too late to call now. Okay?”

Rob sits halfway up with Richard and smiles, giddiness and anxiety kicking in to replace the heady lust they had to let go of. For now. Richard nods and lets him up, collapsing onto the recliner chair as soon as it’s empty. “You good, buddy?”

Richard responds by groaning into the cushion and turning over. Rob gives him the pillow and blanket off the bed before he leaves.

It's steps to his own room, where he fights with the card reader, the loop of his backpack catches on the handle, and he's finally in, landing on the bed, shoes still on, hugging his bag in the dark. "Jesus, fucking, Christ."

**Author's Note:**

> This is ficlet size but I'm planning chapters. Rob and Richard are our hosts 3 back-to-back days a year, or more. It's hard to keep your mind from wandering. 
> 
> This is fictional and I mean no disrespect to R2 or their spouses. I just prefer non AU fic. Thanks for reading!


End file.
